Better the Devil You Know
by Adalind
Summary: The prequel to All's Fair in Love & War. All Ranger, no Steph and totally AU. How Ranger met Bailey.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is the prequel to All's Fair in Love and War - How Ranger met Bailey; it is set four years before that story. Anthony belongs to the wonderful Robin, Ranger is JE's and Bailey is mine. This story, like AFILAW is totally AU.

**Better the Devil You Know**

**Chapter 1**

**Anthony POV**

"Well?"

I looked over at Ranger and raised an eyebrow. This was bullshit; something, crap, everything in this file was way off.

He let out a sigh. "Come on Anthony, what do you think?"

What did I think? That someone was fucking with him, Rangeman. "The intel is shit, it has more holes than like, Swiss cheese, dude."

He did the barely there smile thing and I resisted the urge to punch him. "Why is the intel off, little brother?" he pressed.

I ran my fingers through my dreadlocks. "What intel, man? The government can't really expect you to bring in some two-bit mob hit man; they'd send some desk jockey to deal with that shit. My money is on the fact that there is something that they are not telling you. Who the fuck is this person, I mean really? Can't be just low level mob."

"Piqued your interest yet then, bro?" Ranger teased.

I let out a growl and flipped him off, the smug bastard. The problem with my brother was that he always knew how to push my buttons; the more he teased me, the more I'd step up and do this job. I was never one to back down from anything and he damn well knew that.

"Maybe, I gritted out finally."

"Atta boy, Antonino," he grinned as he ruffled my dreads. "You gotta keep your hand in, you know. Doesn't pay to stop or quit in our line of work; quitting gets you dead."

"I'm an investment banker, man. You know I dont do that shit anymore."

Ranger gave me that look the one that said that I was in serious shit. It worked on me when I was a kid, but not now when I was like twenty-four. Now I just had to worry about not hurting him. He could dish out what he liked and I'd return it in spades, but I still had to hold myself back. The only thing I had left to fear was hurting those I loved or losing them to some psycho like we lost Manny four years ago and nearly lost Les. Shit, we may as well have lost Lester; he was still a total basket case. No, I didn't want to do that sort of thing anymore, and no amount of pressure from Carlos was going to change that, was it?

The harsh look softened and morphed into one of concern. "Look, bro, I know how you feel, but I honestly think that you should get back into the game. You trained too long and too hard to let those skills go to waste. Besides, with Rangeman trying to get the new Trenton office off the ground, I'm short staffed. I can afford to leave Tank and Bobby in charge, and the only other man besides you that I'd trust at my back is Lester, but he's going through a rough patch right now its four years next week since the death of his brother and I can't afford to have him fall apart on me. Please, just this one job?"

"What if it's a set up?"

Ranger looked at me like I was crazy.

"Well?" I pressed. "There's still all that crap over Phoenix to deal with; don't tell me you've forgotten about that, swept it under the carpet?"

He shrugged. "I doubt anything will ever come of that."

"Bullshit!" I coughed.

"So come with me and watch my back, little brother."

Shit, I was so screwed.

* * *

It was a very good thing that I was a trained sniper, otherwise I would probably have gone insane by now; lying on a dank roof top for hours didn't faze me in the least. Shit, I'd been in a truck load of worse places than the run-down, bad side of where ever the fuck we were.

I glanced over at Ranger, who was mirroring my prone position, next to me on the dirty roof. "So we any idea who this guy is yet?"

I was met with a slight shrug.

"Fuck, we actually sure that this is the right building?"

He nodded.

I let out a sigh. "So we have a name: Bailey, and a location, but that's it? Shit, what the hell are we doing here?"

"Working?" he suggested with a hint of a smile. Jeez, Ranger humour; gag me with a spoon.

I sighed again; this was going to be a very long and dull job. "So weve got what, eight apartments?"

He nodded. Enough with that lack of speech thing already, bro!

I scanned the building again with my binoculars. "A hooker in 1A, drunk in 1B, old couple in 2A, nothing as yet for 2B, single mother in 3A, single guy in 3B, nada on 4A and an old lady in 4B."

"I am aware of this," he muttered.

"Hush, I'm thinking," I murmured. "So we're down to 2B, guy in 3B or the occupant of 4A. Pass me the list of tenants again that you so skilfully charmed off the letting agent this afternoon."

Ranger pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of one of his cargo pockets and handed it to me. I scanned the names of the building's occupants. "Do you think the guys could run us some background checks on these three apartments?"

He glanced over and looked at the names. "2B and 3B, yeah they could fit the bill. I wouldnt bother with 4A, thats just some young woman; we'll dig the dirt on the other two first as they're the most likely suspects." With that he pulled out his cell and called back to the mother ship, or whatever. "Need you to run a couple of names for me, Zero. Justin Davies and Philip Newton - Tank has their address; its for that job in Philly. Call me when you have the intel."

Who taught Ranger his phone manners? Not my mother, that was for sure. They totally sucked, would it kill him to say goodbye?. "So now what, oh great one? We ready to call this a night yet?"

Ranger glared at me.

"What? The London market opens in about half an hour and there are always good waves in Hawaii this time of year."

"Hold that thought, we've got movement, Anthony."

A short figure in black with a baggy hoodie on jogged around the corner, up the front steps and unlocked the front door. About a minute later a single light in 4A came on, but we couldn't see the occupant because the shades were drawn. "Dervla Maguire." I stated as I checked the list in my hand.

Ranger nodded in acknowledgement and flipped his cell open. "Talk."

"You sure?"

"Well dig some more."

He ended the call and shoved his phone back in his pocket.

"What?"

"Justin Davies is doing time for drug dealing and has no known connections to the mob; doesn't seem like his style. And Philip Newton was found three days ago floating in the river, so I doubt that he was our man either; most of his connections are gang related."

"I told you that I had a bad feeling about this," I grumbled. "Maybe its the drunk in 1B? Shit, I could be out picking up some chick in a bar, but instead I'm stuck on a fucking roof top. I hate you, man."

Ranger jerked his head around and looked at me. "What did you just say?"

"I hate you?"

He shook his head and grabbed his cell again. "Yo, run me a check on Dervla Maguire."

"No, I'll hold while you do it."

"Yes, the same address."

"What do you mean she doesn't exist past six months ago?"

"Fine, dig as deep as you can; I want to know who the hell she is."

"No, I don't care what damn time it is, just get on with it, Zero."

He listened in silence for a couple of minutes and then put his phone down on the roof top. With a frown he picked up his binos and trained them on the top corner apartment. "Our marks a woman, he said eventually."

"What?"

"You did exactly what I did, assumed that this Bailey person was a guy. $50,000 says that its her that were looking for."

"Chicks with guns, thats like, you know..." I said in my best stoner voice.

Ranger glared.

"Youre serious aren't you?"

"If the government intel is right about the address, then yes. And then couple that with her missing past, I'd say were on the mark."

"She could have come over from Ireland or something six months ago."

"That would show up; she'd have a visa or at least have passed through customs. And if she didn't then she must be hiding something. We need to get into her apartment, plant some bugs and dig around for something incriminating."

I rolled my eyes. "You mean like a little black book full of names with lines through them and amounts of money next to them?"

Ranger clipped me around the ear. "Shut up."

"Ow!" I hissed as I just about resisted the urge to break his damn nose. And he'd well deserve it too, the bastard; some days I really hated my brother. But could he be right about our target being some chick? I guess stranger things had happened.


	2. Chapter 2

**Better the Devil You Know**

**Chapter Two - Anthony POV**

Armed with the fresh intel that it was likely our target was the female occupant of apartment 4A, Ranger and I decided to call it a night. It was doubtful that we'd learn anything more by staring at her closed drapes all night, and the best way forward was for us to put together a plan to infiltrate her digs. There was a chance that she could vanish on us during the night, but we didn't have the man-power to keep a twenty-four hour watch on her. No, concocting a solid plan of action, grabbing some food and getting a little sleep was the best way to go.

The hotel Ranger had picked was way over on the better side of town. Let me put it this way, it was expensive enough for the doorman to ignore the way we were dressed and the duffels we were carrying when we got back. Room service also didn't seem to mind that I wanted a medium steak at 4am – yeah, that kind of place.

The suite had two bedrooms – which wouldn't be a problem as long as one of us didn't go picking up chicks. Ranger was a total player where women were concerned; the ink hadn't even been dry on his divorce when he'd run off to the nearest bar and then jumped into bed with some cheap bottle blonde, but I was pretty sure that he wouldn't go dicking around on an op. It was safe to say that he could get any woman he so desired, but I hoped that he'd at least leave the female population of Phily alone until this job was done. The mere thought of having to listen to Ranger doing some chick made me feel ill.

Room service had just arrived as I stepped out of the shower; my steak, a couple of bottles of beer and a salad; the salad was not mine. Maybe Ranger was not actually my brother, but an alien who needed chlorophyll from plants to survive, hence his constant consumption of salad leaves…

I slouched down on the couch in nothing but my towel, balanced my plate on my abs and attacked my dinner, all the while watching Ranger out of the corner of my eye. Yeah, the alien theory could hold some water.

He caught me watching and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

I stifled a giggle and coughed. "Nothing, man."

Ranger frowned. "Why are you looking at me funny?"

"Who, what, me?"

"Anthony," he growled.

I smiled sweetly and went back to eating my medium rare steak and homemade fries, but shoved the side salad to the edge of my plate.

After a couple of beats of silence he spoke again. "You wanting that salad, bro?"

The piece of meat in my mouth went down wrong and I coughed, spluttered and thumped myself on the chest a couple of times, and nearly lost my dinner on the floor in the process. "Who the fuck are you, man?"

Ranger looked confused.

I gestured at the salad. "It's just not effing normal, dude; enough with the extreme salad consumption. You are an alien, aren't you?"

The poor guy looked hurt. "I like salad."

"Yeah, but where's the steak that goes with it?"

He looked at his salad and then at my own meal and grimaced. "That stuff'll kill you, bro."

"I doubt it. A shark attack or nasty paper cut from counting all my money, maybe. But death by steak, no. Besides, I'm a growing boy and I need the protein."

"Ass," he muttered as he finished off the green stuff that was totally devoid of a dressing or, heaven forbid, a crouton, and pulled the op folder off the coffee table.

"How do you think we should play this?" I quizzed, deftly switching topics to avoid a full scale cussing match between the pair of us.

Ranger shrugged. "Keep watch on the place, and if she leaves, one of us tails her while the other does a little B & E."

I mulled over his suggestion. "You think she's got an alarm system or other such goodies? I'm wondering if she might be a little on the paranoid side, you know."

"Point taken; so what do you suggest, Anthony?"

"I have no idea. The government file states that it wants information on who exactly she is working for, and they want her bringing in alive at all costs. I'm telling you, this is totally off. Why are they going to so much trouble over what looks like a low level mob hit-woman? You know what I think? That there's more to this and her than meets the eye. Maybe I need to put out a few feelers, see if anyone knows who she really is."

"I know what you mean," he agreed. "There is definitely intel missing. Whoever she is, I doubt she's connected to anyone legal. You got any underworld contacts that I don't know about?"

"Not outside America, and something tells me she's not a local."

"Terrorist? IRA?"

I snorted. "Try freelance mercenary, bro."

Ranger grabbed a beer and took a long pull. "Definitely no B & E until we know just what's on the other side of her front door. Maybe we could try a honey trap, I could pick her up in a bar and gain access to her apartment that way."

I looked at Ranger and rolled my eyes. "Dude, if she is what I think she is, she'll take one look at you and run an effing mile. You like scream bad ass military shit and you'll just end up spooking her and we'll get nowhere."

Poor Ranger looked affronted. "Fine, so what the fuck are we going to do?"

"I'll be the bait."

"Right… like that'll work, Anthony."

"I'm a chameleon, I can like, blend. And unlike you, I don't give off black ops vibes. Look, let me give it a shot, and if that fails we'll just maintain contact and send Lester in once he's sorted himself out. You know he could have her out of the door and be in her bed within five minutes."

"We're not using Lester now, next week or even next month. He is just too unstable to be let out on an op. You better start channeling his mojo or something, bro, or we're gonna need another plan," Ranger muttered.

* * *

I felt slightly sorry for my brother right now, but only slightly; like last night, he was stuck on the roof of the opposite apartment building watching Derval/Bailey's place in case she went out, and it was totally pouring it down. I also felt a little smug as I got to sit in the nice warm, dry truck a block away.

It was nearing nine pm and so far the comms had been quiet; obviously nothing doin', and she was still at home. With a sigh, I shoved my seat back as far as it would go, and propped my feet up on the dash board. For all we knew she could spend the next damn week staying in and watching the TV.

We didn't know anything about the woman, or the usual type of guy she went for; shit, she could have been a lesbian for all we knew, so I'd gone for the ratty, frayed surf bum look. Most chicks found it quite cute, and it had worked pretty well for me in the past. I looked non threatening, harmless almost, and despite the row I'd had with Ranger, I was also unarmed. Shit, it wasn't like I actually needed a gun or a knife to kill someone, and the last thing I wanted was for her to find any of my weapons and freak out on me. I had a suspicion that she'd be a little on the cautious and jumpy side with anyone she didn't know.

Half an hour later and my ear piece buzzed to life. "Target on the move - heading east on twenty third street on foot."

"Got that, I'm moving out."

The plan was for me to follow on foot and for Ranger to then take the truck. We hadn't found any details of a vehicle registered to her, and if she did have one, it wasn't close to her apartment. In case she did have a car, Ranger would be following and he'd pick me up en route. Simple – hopefully.

I hopped out of the truck, pulled the hood of my top up to keep off the worst of the weather, and jammed my hands in the pockets to keep them warm. I kept my head down and tailed her from about fifty yards away – close, but not too close. I didn't want her to even know I was there.

The plan worked, and after a couple of blocks she slipped inside an Irish bar on the corner of the street. Ranger had just pulled up about a block away, so I jogged over to the truck.

"I don't want this," I said as I handed him my ear piece.

He took the tiny devise and tossed it on the dash. "You're a fucking idiot, brother."

I grinned. "No, it's too damn obvious and I don't want to be made. If she gets suspicious she'll bail, and both her and her apartment will be empty before we can even blink."

"We don't know that," he growled.

"What would you do if you thought you were under threat?" I asked.

Ranger sighed. "I'd bail."

"Exactly. Wish me luck."

"Here," he said as he handed me a couple of condoms. "Just in case."

I ran my hands through my dreads and shook my head. "What time's my curfew, dad?"

"Fuck you," Ranger grumbled.

"Yeah, and I love you too, man," I grinned as I took the packets and stashed them in my wallet.

I took off across the wet side walk at a jog, dodged a couple of puddles, pushed open the door to O'Malley's and tugged my hood down. What a dive. The place stank of stale Guinness and sweat; the single room was badly lit and in serious need of a makeover and every set of eyes in the place turned to look at me as I walked in. Nice. My military training automatically kicked in and I had to fight the strong urge to reach for a nonexistent gun that should have been at the small of my back. I was well outside of my comfort zone; give me some despot hell hole any day of the week.

My target was at the far end of the room, back to the wall at a booth, almost invisible in the gloom, and she was with a couple of scary looking guys that both made me reconsider my choice of leaving my weapons in the truck again. I negotiated my way to the bar, made eye contact with the bar tender and ordered a Jameson's. The patrons all watched me warily, though no one approached or tired to make conversation. Even the drunk at the end of the bar was watching me with suspicion.

I surreptitiously glanced around again and realized that Dervla was the only woman in the place. From the animated and angry looking conversation she was having with the two men, I suspected that it was business and not pleasure that had brought her in here.

After ten minutes of nursing my whiskey, she finally came over to the bar to get another drink and I got my first real good look at her. She was short, maybe 5'3", with really long black curls that grazed her ass, and dressed from head to toe in black. Black battered para boots, black tank top and custom looking black bike leathers. I'd bet a months earnings that the plates inside the jacket and pants were uber thick Kevlar that would stop a round from a .44 Magnum. Yeah, she was one pretty cautious and paranoid bunny.

The only touch of color was her pale skin and bright green eyes. Dervla wore no makeup; she was pretty enough without it. Despite the three concealed guns I'd managed to clock so far, and the air of menace that cloaked her, she was quite a hottie. Let me be blunt; it wasn't going to be a chore to jump into bed with her.

She spoke Gaelic with a thick Irish accent to the bar tender, slapped some money on the bar and then glanced over in my direction. "What the fuck are you looking at?" she growled.

Unphazed, I shot her my stoned smile, dimples and all. "Wow, you like have the most, like totally green eyes ever, dude."

She blinked and rapidly scanned me from head to toe. "Was that a compliment?" she asked cautiously.

"Like totally," I replied as I smiled again.

"Oh. Thanks, I think."

I held out my hand. "Anthony."

Dervla looked warily at my hand; like it would bite her or something, and after a few beats she accepted it with a firm shake. "Dervla."

"Wow, now that is one totally awesome name, babe."

She shook her head. "Are you lost?"

"Huh?"

"You won't find any good waves around here, mate."

I frowned. "Guess I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere then."

"Yeah, I'd say that. Anyway, if you'll excuse me-"

And then it all went to rat shit. The atmosphere in the bar changed abruptly, Dervla stiffened and her hand inched towards the small of her back as she turned around to watch the entrance, and the bar man reached under the bar for something. Why couldn't Ranger have just waited in the damn truck?

My stupid brother scanned the room and its occupants, strode up to the other end of the bar and motioned the bar tender over.

"I'll see you around, Anthony," Dervla said quietly as she eyed Ranger with suspicion.

I reached out suddenly and put my hand on her arm. She flinched, but thankfully didn't pull a weapon on me. "You okay, doll?" I asked.

"Peachy; just gotta go see a man about a dog."

I glanced down the bar at my brother and then back at her. "He like your ex or something?"

She shook her head and took a step towards the door.

"So like, what's got you so rattled then?"

She stared at me, her eerie green eyes boring into me. "It's nothing, I just have to go."

"Let me walk you out." And before she could protest, I linked my arm through hers and pulled her towards the door.

We hit the street and she hastily tugged her arm free. "Good night, Anthony."

Shit, I could not let her walk away. I took a deep breath, berated Ranger for forcing my hand like this and channeled my inner Lester. I stepped up to her, bent down and kissed her fiercely. Any second now she was going to pull away and unleash a ton of fury on me, but I couldn't think of what else to do.

Actually, the serious hurt I was expecting never happened. Instead, she kissed me back and tangled her hands in my dreads, holding me in place. The kiss deepened and after what felt like an eternity, we broke apart, both breathing heavily.

"Holy Mary, Mother of God," she whispered.

I smiled. "Sorry about that, I've wanted to do that since I saw you at the bar. You okay?"

"Oh yeah."

"Look, you want to go to another bar that's not full of scary blokes and get a beer?" I asked.

Dervla looked me up and down, bit her lip and then smiled coyly. "Maybe we could skip the beer part?"

My wolf grin spread across my face. "I can go with that."

"Your place?"

Like that was part of the plan. "Sorry, not wise. I'm staying on the other side of town."

"What the hell are you doing over here then?"

"Someone recommended the place to me, but I think that they must have got the name wrong."

She shook her head. "O'Grady's; Irish pub for the tourists. So, just what exactly brings you to Phily?"

"Work."

"Work?" she pressed as she studied me intently in the sparse light.

"Yeah, got a few meetings with some clients."

"What do you do, Anthony?"

In that split second, I decided on the partial truth. "I'm an investment banker."

Dervla let out a bark of laughter. "Right, yeah pull the other one mate; it's got bells on it."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I muttered.

"If you're an investment banker, then I'm the queen of Sheba."

I stood up straighter, held out my hand and put on my best board room voice. "I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance, your majesty."

"No way…"

I nodded. "And what do you do?"

She paused, blinked a couple of times and then answered. "I'm a cleaner."

Yeah, one who's cleaning products of choice were a gun or a knife. I resisted the urge to laugh and channeled my blank face. "Fair enough, so which way to your place?"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Anthony belongs to Robin, Bailey is mine and the rest is JE's. With thanks to Robin for her help with this chapter. Oh, and a smut warning too. Enjoy. Oh and in case you were wondering, Anthony is Ranger's half brother; same father, different mother.

**Better the Devil You Know**

**Chapter Three - Anthony POV**

The short walk back to Dervla's place had been quiet for the most part; we'd made the usual small talk, but I honestly felt a little out of my depth. I just didn't know what to say to her without putting my foot in it and blowing my cover. This was actually turning out to be quite a difficult job; I was used to neutralizing a target at a few hundred paces with the intel already gathered, not having to get within six inches of someone with no information on them at all. I mean she could still be some random chick with a penchant for carrying three guns and may not be our mark at all, but the more time I spent in her presence the more I was convinced that Ranger had been right. She moved like I did and she was constantly watching her surroundings; still didn't mean that she was our hit woman, but I'd certainly put my money on her being in the mercenary business to some degree.

She unlocked the building's graffiti-riddled front door, took my hand and towed me up the three flights of stairs to her apartment. The building interior was tired but clean; not the shit hole I was expecting from the exterior. The landing light was out on her floor, but I managed to make out her movements in the gloom. She extracted a bunch of keys from her jacket pocket, stood to one side of the door, rather than directly in front of it and undid the three locks. Her hand drifted towards one of her guns – habit I guess, but she stopped herself when she remembered that I was there and pushed the door open cautiously instead.

No bad guys jumped out of the shadows or tried to shoot us so she went straight to an alarm panel on the wall, checked the settings and punched in a long code. Only then did she speak. "Sorry, come on in, Anthony."

Dervla flipped the lights on as I brushed past her and I took a good look at the security of the sparsely furnished apartment. Along with the numerous door locks, the windows and front door were connected to the alarm and there were motion detectors affixed to the ceiling. I glanced at the alarm panel on the wall – hi-tech, expensive and not easy to by-pass. This was going to be tough, even for myself and Ranger.

She shut and re-locked the door and then vanished around the corner. I looked quickly around the living area in front of me – nothing but a shabby couch, battered coffee table and a very expensive laptop. Shit, all I needed to do was to copy her hard drive as it didn't look like there was any useful information lying around the place.

I trailed after her and into the tiny kitchen area where she was leaning up against the counter. "So," she said with a sly smile.

"So…" I responded. Man, I sounded like such a dumbass; did I make small talk or drag her to bed? Maybe Ranger would have been better at this than me. Yeah, he could have screwed her brains out while I crept in and copied her hard drive. She wouldn't have noticed a full scale riot going on around her with Ranger in her bed.

Dervla blatantly checked me out, her gaze lingering at my groin. "You gonna stand there all night, Anthony? Maybe you're having second thoughts now that you've seen me in decent light?"

Time to step up man, I berated myself. "I don't think so," I told her as I closed the distance between us and pressed her against the counter.

I slowly tugged down the zipper on her leather jacket, settled my hands on her hips and accidentally brushed against the two guns in her shoulder holster in the process. "Glocks?" I asked.

She cocked her head to one side and studied me. "Yeah, how did you know?"

I smiled and carefully extracted the weapons before checking the safeties were on and setting them down on the counter beside her. "Maybe it was a lucky guess."

"Right…" Dervla whispered.

"And the other one," I cajoled as I pulled her gently away from the counter and slid the third gun from the small of her back. "Sig Saur," I stated before I even looked at it.

"How did you-"

"God given talent. And nice body armor too, babe."

She blinked and shook her head. "You sure that you're an investment banker?"

"Among other things." I told her. "You sure that you're a cleaner?"

"Amongst other things," she answered as she picked up my right hand and studied it. "Though you don't seem that hands on to me; you've got the hands of an investment banker."

"I'm left handed."

Dervla picked up my other hand and ran her fingers over the calluses. "Yeah it seems that you are. Should I be worried?"

That was a damn good question. I wasn't here to kill her, that was the truth, but other than that…

"I doubt it," I shrugged eventually. "But should I be worried that I've just divested you of three guns and you're wearing a very expensive Kevlar armored jacket?"

She smiled. "I doubt it, Anthony. And it's four guns. Oh and don't forget the three knives."

I snorted. "Ever heard of extra clips, darlin'?"

"Four guns are better than one and three extra clips. Trust me, I know," she said tonelessly. Her eyes had that cold detached look that my own did when I thought about some of the fucked up situations I had been in over the last few years. Just who was this woman? Despite the look in her eyes she looked young, vulnerable almost.

"How old are you, baby?"

Dervla looked away from me and I took hold of her chin and gently turned her head around so I could look into her eyes again. "Tell me," I whispered as I brushed my lips across hers.

"Twenty two," she murmured against my mouth.

I let go of her in shock and she edged away from me and closer to her weapons. "Twenty two? Shit, you're just a kid," I exclaimed.

"No, I'm not. And I haven't been in a long time," she gritted out.

"I'm sorry," I muttered as I tugged her back against me. "I have no right to judge you.

"No, you don't. Now just shut the fuck up and kiss me."

The kiss was hot, demanding and sinful. I was playing with fire right now, and I knew that I'd have problems trying to walk away from her in the morning. Falling for your mark was like a serious faux pas and strongly advised against in the mercenaries' hand book – right after 'don't get dead.' Still, at this moment in time I didn't give a damn.

I slid my hands around to cup her ass, lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around my hips and twined her arms around my neck. The sudden movement trapped my throbbing cock between our bodies, Dervla ground hard against me and I moaned at the sensations she set off in my body.

She wriggled against me again and this time I gasped.

"Having a problem, Anthony?" she teased.

"Yeah," I responded gruffly. "You're not naked and I've not got my cock buried inside you yet."

It was Dervla's turn to gasp. "Bedroom's behind you," she stated before she kissed me roughly and bit hard on my lower lip. She was a hellion and it looked like tonight was going to be a lot of fun, job be damned.

I strode across the lounge, kicked the only visible door open – which was thankfully the bedroom, and dropped her back to her feet at the bottom of the bed. "If you want your clothes and holsters in one piece then I suggest that you strip, sweetheart, and you better make it fast or I will do it for you."

"No more small talk and getting to know each other then?" she joked as she slipped off her jacket and tossed it on a chair.

"No," I growled as I took in her curves, pert breasts, the throwing knives sheathed at each wrist and her collection of celtic tattoos that covered her left arm to the elbow, curled over her shoulder and collar bone and vanished into her tank top. Christ, she was hot.

"Fair enough, I can live with that," she replied as she took off her gun holster and then removed the knives and placed them carefully on the dresser. The top went next and she wasn't wearing a bra. The tattoos covered her left breast and the left side of her body; a snarling knot work dragon had it's jaws around the nipple, and more animals and patterns scrolled across her ribs and lower still. The designs tantalizingly vanished into her leathers and I bit back another moan. Dervla looked up into my eyes and I knew that she saw the lust and power that lurked in them because her hands faltered and dropped to her sides and she broke my gaze to stare at the floor.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I told her as I took her hands in mine and kissed the backs of them lightly. "You will scream and moan, and if I'm lucky, beg too, but it will be good, I promise."

"I don't think I can do this, Anthony," she whispered as a tear slid down her cheek.

Oh fuck, what a mess. "Do you want me to leave?" I asked as I scooped up her top from the floor and offered it to her; she accepted it warily and held it to her chest.

Finally Dervla looked up again and she looked terrified. "I know who you are and I know what you want, Antony Stewart."

Well hell, she certainly did know who I was, because I'd specifically not given her my last name. What was I supposed to say or do now? "How?"

"You're not the only computer hacker on the planet. I knew that your brother had my file and I just had to do a little digging to find out about him and yourself. Well, I knew about you anyway because of your past. Shit, man, you're damn t-shirt gave you away anyway.

I looked down at my top. It read 'Yummy! Taking a bite since 1994' and was a reference to my teenage computer hacking days. Damn, I never thought it would give me away; trust me to pick up a fellow computer hacker.

"What do you want me to do, sweetheart?"

"Shoot me."

"Excuse me?"

"I won't let you hand me over to the government. I don't know what they want, but I'm not going to sell anyone out. Shit, I don't want anything to do with them; I just want to go home. But the problem is that you're not gonna let me just walk away are you?"

"Hang on a second here, doll. You knew we were looking for you, so why the hell are you still here? And more to the point, why did you bring me back here, Dervla?"

She tugged her top back on and sat down wearily on the bed. "I came into the States from a job in Mexico about six months ago – owed a favor to a friend and had to do a handful of jobs for the mob as payment. I popped up on the government radar a month or so back, though how I don't know; maybe some jackass talked. I had to finish my work for the mob – you know how it is, you don't walk out on something until your debt is paid.

"Then I find out that your brother is on my case and suddenly realize that the only set of I.D I have is in the name of November Bailey. The name is not on the paperwork your brother has, but it's in the case notes I hacked into. The chances of me getting a flight out of the country are nil, so I'm fucking stuck here until I can get my hands on some more I.D. The guys I met with tonight were supposed to help out with that, but so far they've not come up with the goods.

"And as for bringing you home, well it seemed like a good idea at the time – you'd have got in here anyway."

I ran my hands through my dreads and sighed. "Sweetheart, I didn't actually know you were _Bailey_ until you told me just now."

She shot me a sad smile, "Yeah, but you wanted to get in here to look for intel to confirm your suspicions – I clocked you both on the roof opposite last night. It wouldn't have taken you long to figure it all out, Anthony."

"I don't get it, Dervla-"

"Look, it's Bailey okay; no one calls me Dervla."

"Okay, Bailey, what I don't understand is why you were about to sleep with me when you knew who I was. Care to explain?"

"What's to explain? You were prepared to use sex to get information, and so was I."

I actually blushed. "It's not my normal modus operandi."

Bailey smiled. "You surprise me, Anthony. I'm sure that you could charm anyone into bed."

"What about you?"

She shrugged. "I do it all the time."

"Okay, so why did you freak out on me?"

"Because I'm used to dealing with morons, not someone who is better than I am and I don't think I can play the game this time and win. I'm so sick and tired of playing the damn game anyway," she muttered. "Anyway, it didn't help that you're kind of, you know…"

"What, Bailey?" I pressed.

It was her turn to blush. "Attractive," she mumbled.

I smiled. "Thank you for the compliment. In all sincerity, I was actually looking forward to getting you into bed."

Bailey frowned. "I figured it was all an act on your part."

"That first kiss, yeah, but everything else, hell no. You're a very attractive young woman and I still want to know where that tattoo ends."

"Oh."

"That's it, oh?"

"If things were different…"

"Okay Bailey, what you mean is that you like me too much for it to be a random fuck, but you don't want to get involved because I want to turn your ass over to the government. Am I in the ball park here?"

"Pretty much."

I squatted down in front of her and tucked her curls behind her ears. "I'm going to tell you what I think will happen once we hand you over to the government and then I want to ask you one question and I want you to answer me truthfully, okay?"

Bailey nodded.

"The way I see it is that they know a heck of a lot about you. You must be good with computers to get into their system, and you must know enough about black ops to know who my brother is. So I think that they set you up, they're testing you to find out how good you are. With that in mind, I suspect that they want to offer you a job. And now that question: How do you feel about that?"

"I don't want to work for them."

"Why?"

"I play by my own rules, and when I can I choose my own jobs. Sometimes you just have to do shit because you owe someone, but I don't want to play in their sand box. Fuck, I mean who are they gonna send me after, my friends? I don't bloody think so, Anthony," she growled.

"Thank you that was exactly the answer I was looking for. I'll hold my brother off for as long as I can and in the mean time I'll help you get somewhere safe until I can get you some fake I.D."

Bailey screwed her eyes tight shut in an attempt to stop the tears. "I'm sorry, I don't normally cry," she whispered. "I don't understand why you're doing this."

"Do you know how I ended up stuck in this life?"

"I read a bit of your file, not a lot, but I got a hold of some of your details."

"Nice work kitten; most people would get nothing. Did you get the part that explains how I ended up in black ops?"

"No, I don't think so."

"You got the reference on my t-shirt."

Bailey nodded.

"So you know that I cracked a hell of a lot of sites back then, including the government. Well I got caught and they made me a deal that I couldn't refuse even if I wanted to – the bastards have no sense of humor it turns out. Yes I was very good at said job, but that doesn't mean that I wanted to do it. I didn't have a choice back then and unless I help you, you won't have a choice either. I don't want to see anyone else stuck in that same situation, and I can help you."

Her shoulders slumped. "You've got too much to lose."

"Bull shit; they can't touch me now; I only did this job to get Ranger off my back."

"But if your brother finds out…"

"Bailey, trust me – he won't find out; this deal is between you and I. Besides it'll be kind of fun to get one over on him. If he does find out he'll get over it eventually. So, we got a deal?"

She met my gaze. "Depends on what you want from me."

I reached out and gently wiped away all the traces of the tears from her face with my finger tips. "I don't want anything from you."

"Everyone wants something, Anthony."

"You don't have anything I want, sweetheart."

Bailey stood up abruptly and stalked away. "I see."

Nice job, Anthony, I chastised myself. I followed her across the room and turned her around to face me. "Let me re-phrase that. You don't have anything I want in relation to helping you. I don't make deals to force someone to sleep with me."

Bailey snorted. "And an hour ago you were willing to pick me up in a bar and fuck me to get information out of me, so what's the damn difference?"

Women! "I think you are misunderstanding me, Bailey. I was willing to fuck you to get intel, but I no longer needed to do that once you spilled your guts to me. I have no desire to force you into bed, but if we decide that we both want the same thing then I have no problem with that."

She stepped closer to me and placed her hands on my hips. "So let me get this straight, you don't want me to feel obliged to sleep with you, but if I told you that I wanted to because I find you exceedingly beautiful, you wouldn't have a problem with that?"

"Exactly."

Bailey stood up on tip toes and kissed me; one hand tangled in my dreads and the other popped the buttons on my ripped jeans.

My cock sprang free and Bailey pulled back to take a look at it. "Christ," she muttered. "What is it with you military types and no underwear?"

I shook my head. "That's all you have to say? Talk about denting a guy's ego, honey. You're supposed to say something like 'wow' or 'oh my God!'" I teased.

Bailey rolled her eyes. "Wow Anthony your cock is huge; I've never seen one that big before," she deadpanned.

I glared.

She smirked, dropped to her knees and suddenly swallowed most of my dick in her mouth. "Holy fuck!" I gasped.

Amused green eyes looked back at me as she sucked, bit and licked, while all my brain cells began to descend south. I threaded my hands in her hair and rested them on her scalp in the vain hope that she'd provide some stability when my legs gave way. She was fucking awesome and I let out a deep moan as Bailey cupped my balls in one hand and rolled them around in her palm. I was so close and it had been too damn long. Sharp nails ran over my inner thighs, the ball on her tongue piercing teased the tip of my cock and I threw my head back and let out a yell and an intense orgasm exploded behind my eyes and spread through my body.

She swallowed every last drop of cum, kissed the tip of my cock and ran her hands soothingly up and down the backs of my legs. "You okay up there, darlin'?"

I managed a nod, stumbled out of my ripped jeans and collapsed back on her bed. "Holy fuck," I exclaimed again.

"I'll take that as a compliment," she laughed.

"It was okay," I responded.

"Only okay? Maybe I need some more practice."

I sat up, snagged her around the waist and pulled her down on top of me. "Sweetheart, you can practice on me any day of the week. How about you show me the rest of that tattoo?"

"Anthony Stewart!" she exclaimed in mock outrage. "Anyone would think that you were trying to get me naked."

"Hello, mercenary," I shot back. "And I also want to know where that other gun and knife is concealed. Professional interest of course, you understand."

Bailey braced her hands on my chest and pushed herself up to straddle me. "So let me get this straight, you want me to get naked so you can see the rest of my tattoo and so you can see where I stashed the rest of my hardware?"

"Pretty much."

"Bollocks," she coughed.

I laughed. "Fine how about take your damn clothes off before I rip them off 'cos I want to fuck you 'til you scream my name and your neighbor bangs on the wall."

"She's almost deaf."

"I like a good challenge."


	4. Chapter 4

**Better the Devil **

**Chapter Four - Anthony POV**

Normally I woke early, caught a few waves if I was anywhere near any decent ones, and then checked the stock markets over coffee. This morning it was my cell that woke me; I was spooning a warm body, my hand on her breast and my erection nestled against her ass. I was warm and comfy, and for the first time in as long as I could remember I hadn't slept with my gun on the night stand; mind you, Bailey's Sig was on her side of the bed. Still, for some inexplicable reason I was trusting a woman I barely knew to watch my back, and yet it didn't bother me in the slightest; maybe she really had fucked my brains out.

I would have let the call go to voice mail if it hadn't been Ranger, but the phone was screaming out _Bodies_ by _Drowning Pool_. I figured it was pretty fitting for my brother, but I wasn't sure if he'd have found it funny. Mind you, I still wasn't positive he had a sense of humor these days; I think the government had surgically removed it when they shoved that stick up his ass.

I untangled myself from Bailey and slid out of the bottom of the bed, then dragged my phone out of my discarded jeans and hit the talk button.

"What?" I growled as I stepped into the tiny bathroom and sat down on the side of the rusting tub.

"What the hell is going on, Anthony?" Ranger snapped.

"Gathering intelligence," I shot back.

"Christ," he muttered. "You were supposed to check out her security not her damn tits."

"The opportunity arose, so to speak and I – hang on just a second, what the hell would you have done?"

Ranger was silent for a few beats.

"Exactly," I told him.

He snorted. "Back to business; did you find any evidence, is she our mark?"

What the hell was I going to say? I could lie and buy her a little more time, or I could tell the truth and then use that to my advantage to stay close to her. Damned if I don't and damned if I do. Fuck. "Yeah, I think so… Maybe, I don't know. Need to do a little more recon."

"While she's flat on her back?" Ranger sneered.

Crap. When in doubt change the subject. "What the fuck were you thinking last night? You nearly shot the whole op to hell, man. Why did you have to walk into that damn bar and spook the entire god-damn building?"

I was met with more silence.

"Well," I pressed. Talk to me damn it, oh brother of mine.

"You know I worry, man."

"That's it? Shit Ranger, I can look after myself. I appreciate your concern, but the situation was one second from going FUBAR. I trust you to do your job and I expect you to trust me to do mine."

"You were unarmed and had ditched your wire," Ranger shot back.

Movement in my peripheral vision made me look up. Bailey was standing in the doorway stark naked with an evil glint in her eye. She stepped up to me, wrapped her arms around my neck and my cock twitched and stirred. Damn this woman.

"I was watching your back," Ranger continued.

I managed a grunt in response as Bailey worked my dick with her hand until it was fully hard again, then carefully straddled me and slid down on my cock. The position was totally bizarre; we sat facing each other with her on my lap with her feet resting on the bottom of the tub. Both of us losing our balance was a major concern, but she managed to get enough leverage to move without tipping us both into the tub, and I bit my lip to stifle my moans.

"Are you even listening to me?" Ranger grumbled after I'd been quiet for too long. "This is serious, Anthony."

"Yeah," I gasped. "Look, I have to-"

Bailey bit down hard on my neck and I swatted her on the ass in response.

"I'll call you later, Ranger."

"Anthony, we need-"

I hung up on him, switched the cell off, tossed it on the side of the sink and gingerly stood up with my cock still buried in Bailey. We managed to make it as far as her bed, where I dropped us both down to the mattress. "You evil little witch," I chastised.

"Shut up and fuck me," she demanded huskily.

I rolled my hips and she groaned. "Fuck you again, already?" I teased as I pinned her wrists above her head with one hand and then rubbed the calloused fingertips of my left hand over her clit.

"Christ!" she yelled as she squirmed under me. "For the love of god, Anthony, fuck me please!"

"I guess I could. Then again…" I whispered as I pulled out of her.

"Nooo!" she wailed. "Please, damn it, you bastard."

I slid my thumb inside her dripping pussy while I continued to rub her clit. "You want my cock back?"

Bailey nodded.

"Say it."

"Please Anthony," she all but sobbed.

"Please what, baby?"

"Fuck me, whatever, I just don't care. I need you, I'll do anything."

I dropped a swift kiss on the dragon tattoo on her breast. "I do love it when you beg."

"Please," she wailed as she thrashed under me as I kept up my assault on her clit.

"You really sure you want more sex?" I teased as I bit down hard on her nipple.

Bailey moaned as I kept on torturing her body. "Yes, damn it," she shrieked in frustration

I withdrew my hands and scooted her further up the bed. "Hold onto the head board; if you let go, I'll stop. Understand?"

She nodded once and licked her lips. I went up on my knees, hooked my arms under her legs and rested them on my shoulders. Her ass lifted off the bed and I dipped my index finger in her exposed pussy. "You are so wet."

"I wonder why," Bailey murmured as she tried to wiggle closer to my finger.

"Must be my good looks," I teased as I rubbed her clit again.

"Mmm, and don't forget your amazing body, stunning cock and never waning stamina in the sack. You could make a girl not want to let you go, Anthony Stewart," Bailey replied huskily.

I smiled. "You're not so bad yourself, sweetheart; I could keep you around for a while. Now where was I?"

"About to fuck me I think," Bailey giggled.

"Yeah, I can go with that."

* * *

I stole a glance at Bailey's bedside clock. Crap, the day was getting on and I had to check in with Ranger and make a few plans; time for me to leave. Hell, I was surprised that he hadn't stormed the building after I turned my phone off. He was going to be sooo pissed; I was going to have to do some serious damage control.

I brushed Bailey's long hair back off her face and trailed my thumb across her lips. "As much as I want to stay here like this for a week, sweetheart, I have to go."

Bailey dropped a quick kiss on my lips and slid out of bed. "I figured as much."

"So…"

"Yeah, so…" she responded awkwardly as she swiftly pulled on her leather pants and a sports bra, and began tossing weapons, some legal and some not so legal in a duffle.

It was time to get this show on the road. "I've been thinking-"

She cut me off. "Me too, and I think it's best if I just vanish into the sunset, don't you? Maybe I'll see you around someday."

"Are you insane?" I yelled as I sat up abruptly in bed.

Bailey raised an eyebrow as she checked the clip on her Sig, chambered a round and set the safety before sliding the gun in the back of her pants.

"Ranger will hunt you down like a dog and there is nothing I would be able do to stop him. Look, let me get you somewhere safe for a few days until I get you a fake passport; then you can pull your vanishing act and get the hell out of this country."

She frowned at me, then turned away and strapped her wrist sheaths back on. "I still don't like owing you, Anthony."

"And I've told you that you don't owe me a god damn thing, doll. This is about me helping you out so you don't end up stuck between a rock and a hard place with some shady government department; I don't want anyone else to have to go through what I did."

"Are you sure? You don't have to do this; I can take my chances with your brother."

I snorted. "You've read his file and you still want to make a run for it? Shit, you are crazy."

She tossed a handful of spare clips in the duffle and then sank down on the bed next to me. "Where am I supposed to go until I have some new I.D? I can't stay here."

"You can stay in the last place on earth he would think of ever looking for you: my apartment."

Bailey poked me in the ribs with her finger. "Go on then Mr. Covert Government Sneaky Guy, explain."

"You let me get out of here and I'll go back to the hotel and feed Ranger some bullshit, then you make your way to my apartment in New York. I don't know when I'm gonna get back there, so go to the small independent book store on 32nd street. Ask for Edward and tell him I sent you and you've come to pick up the copy of Catcher in the Rye that I ordered. He'll then give you a key – that's the spare for my apartment; I'll write you down the address and alarm codes. I'll be back as soon as I can and then I'll get you a fresh set of I.D so you can get out of the country, okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah, that sounds like a plan. I'll use cash and travel on the bus, that way your brother shouldn't be able to trace me."

"Good thinking, doll."

I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and she leaned her head against mine. "So, just what are you going to tell your brother?"

I shrugged. "I don't quite know yet. I know I'm about to fuck up his Op, but I don't want to lie to him. I'm pretty certain that he thinks that you are our mark, so I'm probably best off telling him that we need to come back tonight and copy your laptop's hard drive. With you gone I can just say that you must have gotten spooked and split town. If he questions this morning's phone conversation, I'll just say that I was trying to make sure that I wasn't overheard as I'd heard you getting out of bed."

Bailey bit her lip and then got up and paced the floor for a few seconds. "Okay… I should be in New York by late today; hopefully get to the book store before it closes. How long should I wait for you before I split town?"

I growled. "Don't leave until I turn up. I will get you out of this mess, I promise."

She snapped me a mock salute. "Yes sir."

"Smart ass."

"Yeah? What you gonna do about it, Anthony?"

I glanced at my watch, deliberated for all of a second and then tugged her towards me by her belt loops. "I'm going to put you in your place, you bad girl."

"I thought you had to leave," Bailey laughed as she toyed with my dreads and massaged my scalp with her fingertips; something she had figured out that turned me on immensely.

"Might not see you for a day or so; don't want to get withdrawal symptoms," I teased.

Bailey closed her eyes, tipped her head back and took a deep breath. "You are one very dangerous man, Anthony Stewart."

I gently traced the tattoo on her left arm with my fingertips and looked up into her face. She was a hellion, a mercenary, a total and utter lunatic, but I was falling for Bailey, falling really hard and I didn't give a damn. Here was a woman who was my equal, but a woman that I was about to lose. Ranger was hot on her heels and the only way to keep her safe was to get her out of the country and far away from him and me also. Maybe I could just keep her as my sex slave? I smiled at the thought. Ranger would never know, right?

In a very short space of time she had gotten under my skin and I was beginning to wish that there was another way out of this fucked up situation. "And you are one very dangerous woman, doll," I replied honestly. My heart was in serious danger of being ripped to pieces.


	5. Chapter 5

**Better the Devil**

**Chapter Five - Ranger POV**

I rested my head on the steering wheel of my Cayenne and closed my eyes; everything had gone to rat shit in the last forty-eight hours, and I hoped to hell that when I met up with Anthony again I could make some sense out of his weird behaviour. I felt like this was my entire fault; I should never have pressured him into taking this damned job. The crazy thing was I wanted him back at my side, back in the business, and at first I'd thought that I'd stop at nothing to get what I wanted. Now I was having second thoughts about all this. Problem was that Anthony would always be a target and the longer he refused to play the game the worse his skills would get, and then one day, bam; I'd have lost him to some punk who'd got a lucky shot in. I loved my brother and I would not lose him; bringing him back into the mercenary business was the only way to keep him safe. Now all I had to do was figure out just what the hell he was hiding from me.

I thought back to yesterday afternoon in Phily when Anthony had finally dragged himself back to the hotel. He'd looked rough as hell, like he'd not had an ounce of sleep; his neck covered in hickeys and his arms covered in scratches. It didn't take a genius to work out what he'd been up to for the previous twelve or so hours. He'd calmly called room service for a stack of pancakes and a pot of coffee, then collapsed on the couch and closed his eyes.

I'd not been so pissed at him in a long time, but I'd managed to keep my anger in check - barely; I'd needed to know what intel he'd managed to gather when he'd not been fucking Dervla's brains out.

"Well?" I'd prompted, "This Dervla chick, is she this Bailey person we are looking for?"

Anthony had cracked one eye open and shrugged. "I'm not sure," he'd replied. "I've scoped her alarms out, so I suggest we go back tonight and see what's on her laptop."

"What do you mean you aren't sure?" I'd snarled. "Did you actually manage to learn anything other than what turns her on in the twelve hours you spent in her company?"

He'd shrugged once more and closed his eyes again.

This was so wrong; I should know have her shoe size, her bra size and if she'd shaved her legs, but Anthony was not offering up any information what so ever. I'd pushed gently at his mind, trying to work out what was going on in his head, but what I'd met with was a solid wall. He was blocking me out for some strange reason. Why? Who was this woman, and what was my brother hiding?

The trip to Dervla's apartment had been a bust too; she been long gone by the time we'd gotten there and that had further set off my bullshit radar. Yeah, Anthony was certainly up to something and I'd bet a months earnings that he'd had a hand in her disappearance. Why?

I'd called up my government contact first thing this morning to check in, lied and assured him that I had a bead on the subject, and then asked him to check if there were any known aliases as there was nothing in Bailey's file. Funnily enough, there had been just one: Dervla MacGuire, and he'd had no idea why it wasn't in the intel I'd been given. This job stank more and more every fucking second. Bailey was Dervla, she had now disappeared and my brother was acting damn weird. In fact he couldn't get back to New York fast enough once we knew she'd split late last night. He'd told me to call him has soon as I any fresh leads on Dervla – if she was our target or not, and driven off in his Ferrari like a bat out of hell.

No Anthony had known full well that Bailey and Dervla were one and the same, and her vanishing act was a little too convenient. He'd had nothing planned as we'd had no idea how long we'd have been stuck in Phily and yet he'd rushed home. Rushed home to what, or maybe whom?

Which brought me right back to sitting in the bottom of the converted warehouse that housed his loft apartment, and hoping to hell that a young Irish woman was not upstairs or worse still, in his bed.

I prayed that I was wrong, but deep in my gut I knew what I was going to find when I got inside. The mercenary in me thought that at least I could wrap this job up quick, but my head and my heart wanted to know why my own brother had lied to me and deliberately tried to fuck up my op. It was my ass on the line, my career, and brother or no, he had a lot of explaining to do.

The government were fucking with me too, and I knew that Bailey was just not a two-bit hit woman; I'd worked that out in the bar last night. She'd been packing too much heat and wearing uber expensive Kevlar leathers - so not some low down part of the mob food chain. No that girl was a mercenary; I wasn't sure just who she was affiliated to yet, nor why the government spook squad was so interested in her, but she was certainly no little fish.

With that in mind I swiftly checked over my two guns and knife, then added an extra knife, a pair of cuffs and a handful of minute trackers in case she somehow managed to give me the slip. I was sure it was going to be two against one once I got upstairs, or if I was really lucky Anthony would just keep well out of it and let me do my job. Fucking idiot! What had he been thinking? Didn't he know that the second rule in the mercenary's hand-book was not to fall for your target? Yeah, he and I were going to be having a little chat once I'd handed Bailey over to the authorities.

Okay, so I could be way off the mark here, but I just knew that I wasn't. I could usually 'feel' Anthony, or if nothing else sense his mood if I wanted to. I'd felt no emotions from him since yesterday morning when he hung up on me at Dervla's, Bailey's – whatever the hell her name was, and I'd never in all my years had him do that to me before. Still, at least I knew he was upstairs, that was something I suppose.

The old service elevator carried me up to the third floor and juddered to a stop directly in front of his door. Anthony's security was top notch, but thankfully I had a spare key; mind you after this little escapade I doubted I'd be keeping it for much longer.

There was no point in running a fiber-optic scope under the door, it simply wouldn't fit. The re-enforced door was soundproofed also, so I wouldn't learn much by putting my ear to it either. I was simply going to have to open the door and see what I found.

I slid my key silently into the lock, twisted the handle and eased open the door a couple of inches. There was no obvious sound coming from the lounge area that I could make out so I pushed the door fully open and stepped into the open plan living area. A brief scan told me that Anthony was home alright; a half eaten pizza on the coffee table, the jacket he'd been wearing when he left Phily tossed on an arm chair. And someone else was here too; an expensive laptop sat next to the pizza box and a green army duffle leant against the couch along with a pair of ratty German army boots, that custom leather jacket and a black hoodie. Crap.

I moved further into the loft, quickly scanned the kitchen area and then headed towards the couple of bedrooms, office and the bathroom. I didn't get far before I heard noises, and it didn't take a genius to work out what was going on in Anthony's bedroom. Christ, I'd told him to channel Lester, not actually become Lester. This was not good; it made the situation so much more complicated and I wondered if I was going to be able to extract Bailey without a fight flaring between my brother and I.

Still, I guess on the plus side it did give me a few minutes to check out Bailey's gear. A swift rummage in the duffle revealed a shit load of illegal hardware and a sparse amount of black clothing. I hid a couple of trackers in some of her gear, one more in her leather jacket and a final one in her laptop on the underside of the CD tray for her CD drive – she wouldn't find that unless she turned the computer upside-down. Least this way I was covered if she made a run for it.

Well, it was now or never, time to pick this chick up and possibly fuck up my relationship with my brother. With a heavy heart I crossed the loft to Anthony's bedroom door and drew my Glock. Judging by the sounds permeating through the wood they were still in the middle of something; probably best to catch the both while their guards were down.

I gently pushed the door open and swiftly assessed the room; weapons scattered across the floor – mostly hers by the looks of them, along with their clothes. I was thankfully saved from looking at my naked brother as Bailey was sat astride him, her back to me as she – yeah you get the picture.

I gave myself a metal slap in the face, stepped fully into the room and cocked my gun. "This a private party, or can anyone join in?" I enquired.

I guess I'd expected Bailey to shriek like a, well like a girl, cover her assets and cower. No such luck. She'd rolled off my brother before I could blink, scooped a knife off the night stand and had backed herself into the corner by the window with a very nasty look on her face. Yup, she was one pissed cookie. I glanced over at Anthony; he'd made no attempt to cover his nakedness and stared up at me from the flat of his back with hatred glinting in his eyes. I guess I wasn't going to get an invite to join them.

"So this further research then bro?" I asked acerbically.

Anthony kept silent.

I looked back to Bailey who was still naked and angry. "You need to get dressed and come with me. I am authorized by the Federal Government to turn your ass over to them."

She shifted her grip on the knife and looked into my eyes. "Shoot me."

"Excuse me?"

"I won't let you take me alive, so you may as well just shoot me, Manoso."

Crap. I looked to Anthony for some help.

"Bailey…" he said.

She shook her head. "Did you set me up, Anthony?"

"Fuck, no! Jesus, woman, how could you think that?"

She shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time I've been double crossed and shat on from a great height."

Anthony sat up and scrubbed his hands over his face. "Can we cut some sort of deal here, Ranger?"

I snorted. "A deal? You want to cut a fucking deal after you helped one of my targets to escape? You're my brother, damn it. How could you do this to me?"

He slid off the bed and stalked towards me. "How could I do this? Because I don't want anyone to have to go through what I did at the hands of the government; I never wanted this life."

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you started hacking into their files from the school library, brother."

"I was thirteen," he shot back as he ran his hands though his dreads in frustration. "I want to make a deal, Ranger."

I gestured towards him with my gun. "Go on."

"Let her go and I'll come back to the business."

Tempting, but I had my 100 percent capture rate to think about. I'd hunted down bigger and badder fish than Bailey and losing her would make me look like an idiot. "Sorry, but no."

"Let me take the fall for the job and I'll come back on board for the black ops work and moonlight for Rangeman – no conditions, no time limits – ever."

"Anthony!" Bailey hissed in warning. "Don't fuck up your life for my freedom, you idiot." She glanced at Anthony and then back to me. "Manoso, what if I let you take me in and you leave your brother the hell alone and let him get on with his life as he chooses?"

I looked at them both. "I don't think either of you are in a position to be making any deals."

"Phoenix," Anthony hissed out through clenched teeth. "I'm calling my marker in, you bastard."

Fuck. I holstered my gun and massaged my temples with my fingertips. "I thought there was no price, brother?"

He simply shrugged. "Yeah well … desperate times call for desperate measures."

"You helped me find you own cousins…" I couldn't believe he was doing this to me over some damn chick.

"Yes, I know what I did and I would do it again in a heartbeat, but you once told me that you owed me for all that shit I pulled to help you extract your men and now I'm collecting, brother."

I took a deep breath. "Fine, what do you want?"

"Let her walk, man."

"I can't do that."

"Bullshit," he coughed. "It's your pride won't let you do it."

That was so very true. I looked over at Bailey again; she was watching the exchange with interest, but had yet to let her guard down. How dare that bitch get between Anthony and I; never had Anthony demanded anything of me for helping. She was going to pay for this and I was going to make sure that she was going to suffer.

"You want a deal?" I sneered.

Anthony nodded.

"Okay. I am going to walk out of here and starting from 0600 Monday morning Bailey has six weeks to run. If I catch her in that time then I will turn her over to the government and you will come back into the black ops game with me. If I don't find her then you both owe me nothing and I'll tell the government that I can't find her."

"Are you fucking kidding?" Bailey yelled. "What sort of whacked out deal is that?"

"The best I am going to offer. What do you say, Anthony?"

He shook his head slowly. "Very clever, Ranger – to leave my fate in her hands alone. You really are a bastard, aren't you?"

"Why do you think I'm still alive?"

"True man," he said quietly as he looked back to the woman in the corner. "I guess if I were you I'd take him up on this, there's nothing else I can do to help you chica."

"We could just kill him," she suggested bitterly.

Anthony looked into my eyes. "No, I'm afraid that we can't," he replied as his shields came crashing down and I almost staggered under the weight of his emotions slamming into me; hate and fear with an undercurrent of love and respect for both me and that woman in the corner.

I was in a no win situation. If I hauled Bailey in then my brother would hate me for subjecting her to the wrath of the government and for making him go back to wet work, and if I let her walk then my own career would come under some serious scrutiny. Time for me to make my exit. "You have six weeks, got that?"

Bailey nodded sullenly.

"Anthony," I intoned.

He nodded once and I walked out of the apartment and away from the brother I thought I knew and trusted. Still, least I had half a dozen trackers planted on Bailey's gear; it wasn't like I actually had to work very hard to find her come Monday. Maybe I'd just let her catch sight of me every so often, keep her on the run and fuck with her mind; yeah, I could go with that plan and make the bitch sweat. She could suffer a little for fucking everything up and it would give me time to work out just what the hell I was going to do in six weeks. I had to hang someone out to dry, but just who would it be, me or my own brother and his lover? Right now I was fucked if I knew.


	6. Chapter 6

**Better the Devil**

**Chapter Six - Ranger's POV**

There is only so much someone can take before they reach breaking point, and I strongly suspected that Bailey was at that point right now. For pretty much the last six weeks I'd followed her progress across the United States and back again via the trackers in her clothing and laptop, and every so often I'd put in a personal appearance from a distance. Trust me, I made sure that she saw me, but I never made a move to haul her ass back to New York and the government building. I was well and truly fucking with her head, and to be honest it gave me a small amount of satisfaction.

Her contract was up in a couple of days and all I had to do now was slip into the seedy motel room she was holed up in, slap the cuffs on her and haul her back on the next flight. Over the last few weeks I'd done a lot of thinking and soul searching, and had come to the decision to turn her over to the authorities. I'd keep my one hundred percent capture record, she'd be locked up and off the streets, because let's face it, she did kill people for money. Yeah, so did I, but the difference was that she didn't seem to give a damn who her target was. The digging I'd done on Bailey, AKA Dervla MacGuire, AKA Siobhan O Grady to name but a few was that she was a cold hard killer who worked with a long list of names who I'd like to see off the streets. In short, she gave legal mercenaries like myself a bad name.

Lastly I'd get Anthony back in the game. Yes he'd hate me for a while, but how long could he hold a grudge for? He'd be safe and that was one of the most important things in the world to me. If I had to sacrifice some chick that he had a crush on to get what I wanted then so be it.

I checked the room number on the key fob the motel manager had oh so kindly handed over after I'd flashed some interesting I.D, and counted off the doors to Bailey's room. Low key – no need to go kicking doors in. It was nearing 3am so chances were she'd be asleep. If she wasn't, well improvisation was one of my middle names.

I slid the key in the cheap door, popped the lock and dropped to a crouch – no need to get shot in the chest, vest or no. I could see the bed to the right of the door, the night stand light was on and Bailey was sat on the bed, her back rested against the padded floral head board, knees brought up to her chest with her chin pillowed on them. In one hand she held a bottle of Jack and in the other she loosely dangled a gun from one finger. The clothes she wore were rumpled, her hair was a mess and she looked exhausted.

She looked up and glanced at me with bloodshot eyes. "I wondered when you'd show up," she whispered.

"In my own sweet time," I said with a blinding smile as I stepped into the room and shut the door behind me. "Would you mind putting the gun down and going and facing that wall over there with your hands above your head and your feet apart?"

"Will you do me a favor first?"

"Maybe."

"Will you tell Anthony that I'm sorry for all this, and that I appreciate him trying to help me? I just wish I could have done better, that I didn't have to let him down."

I nodded. Like I was going to tell her about those trackers. I could have found her without them, but it would have taken a hell of a lot of man hours. I honestly wouldn't have set her up if I didn't think I stood a chance of bringing her in at the end of it all. "The gun please, Bailey."

"Oh yeah," she said with a sad smile as she placed the Jack on the night stand and then looked at the gun, at me and then back again.

Shit. In that split second I knew what her plan was. She brought the gun up towards her temple as I flew across the room, catching her arm at the last second and throwing her aim off. The gun skittered out of her hand, bounced across the covers and landed on the floor on the far side of the bed with a dull thud, and thankfully didn't discharge. Crisis averted; bringing her in dead was never part of the plan.

I gripped her chin viciously in my left hand and pulled her face up to meet my angry glare. "What the fuck do you think you are doing?"

"Ending it," she gritted out.

"Sorry, not part of my plan," I retorted as I reached for my cuffs with my free hand.

"Fucking bastard," Bailey hissed as she threw a wildly aimed punch in the vicinity of my face.

She was a vicious little bitch and after a brief struggle I managed to flip her over and cuff her hands behind her back. She lay on the bed face down and cursed some more.

"What's with the death wish, girl?"

"You won't take me in alive, I won't work for them or spill my guts to those bastards."

"So you'd rather die, Bailey?"

"Not really, but I'm shit out of options," she spat as she struggled against the cuffs.

"Do I need the ankle shackles out of the truck, or are you going to behave yourself? I quizzed.

"Fuck you."

"Your mother know you use that sort of language?" I teased.

"She's dead, so how the fuck would I know?" Bailey shot back.

Okay, this was not going so well. "Listen up kid, it's late so you and I are going to chill here for a couple of hours, and then we're gonna get moving and get the next flight back to Boston. I'll turn you in on Monday morning, so you can spend the weekend in the Rangeman holding cells. Understand?"

Bailey probably cursed at me in a stream of what sounded like Gaelic.

"I'll take that as a yes. Get some sleep."

She rolled over onto her side, worked her hands under her ass and after about a minute managed to work the cuffs over her legs so they were now in front of her and then she reached for the bottle on Jack again.

"I'm not hauling you on a plane while you're drunk," I commented.

"I'm not drunk, Manoso."

"Yet."

"Oh will you just fuck off!" she growled. "Maybe I can die of alcohol poisoning if I put my mind to it now that you've taken my gun."

I smirked.

Bailey caught my look and slammed the bottle down on the night stand and shoved herself off the bed. "Look, I know you must be pleased as punch that you managed to pull a total and utter mind fuck on me for the last six weeks, but you really don't have to rub it in, you know. I am tired, emotional and very pissed off, so will you just sod off and leave me alone for a couple of hours."

"So you can escape out of the bathroom window or top yourself?" I snorted.

She rolled her eyes. "Go sit in your damn truck or something; I won't be able to relax with you here anyway."

"Why?"

"I don't trust you, so I sure as hell ain't gonna fall asleep on your watch."

I could see her point; I wouldn't trust her to watch my back either at the moment. "We can go to the airport if you like."

She sank down in the threadbare chair in the corner and tipped her head back. "I don't want to die, I just want out of this damn country; I want to go home."

"Sorry, not part of the plan, Bailey."

"No? You open to bribes and such?"

I shook my head. "No."

"You sure?"

I crossed the room to stand in front of her and leered. "Is this the part where you offer to trade that hot body of yours for your freedom? Do you think I didn't get a good look at you in Anthony's apartment? You sure as hell seem to know how to handle a man. Maybe you could-"

Her knee shot upwards and caught me smack in the balls and as I sank to my knees in excruciating pain she caught me under the chin with balled fists. The room span and I ended up flat on my back looking blearily up at a very angry Irish woman. It had all happened so damn fast, and I'd never even expected the attack. Shit, I'd only been teasing her.

"Give me some credit, you cunt!" she shrieked as she deftly stripped me of my arsenal. "You think that my body is all I've got to offer? Go fuck yourself Manoso."

I rolled onto my side, thankful that she'd missed my knife, and watched as she pulled a slim pick out of her boot and deftly removed the handcuffs and then retrieved her gun, jacket and duffle. "Guess it's game on again, Manoso. Better luck next time."

Shit, fuck, damn! I willed myself to my knees and used the chair to haul myself upright. The room span again. I'd had my ass kicked by a chick, and to make matters worse, said chick was about to get away. "Wait," I whispered.

She paused in the doorway. "What?"

"Name your deal."

A myriad of emotions flashed across her features before her black face fell into place. "One month of wet work and intel cracking with secure accommodation in exchange for safe passage out of the country, and you leave your brother alone."

"I'll lose my capture fee, my reputation."

Bailey nodded. "Yeah, but you'll get a month of free useful government intel and an assassin on your books so to speak. I don't come cheap, and I know how much the government is paying you for my apprehension. Trust me when I say that what I'd charge for a months work is more than you're getting from Uncle Sam. Look Manoso I don't work in the U.S normally, I don't want to work in the U.S and I really want to get back to my brother and my crew. You get a wet work expert for a while and I get to go home and never darken your door ever again. You are getting a good deal here."

"No deal." I took a couple of tentative steps towards her and gingerly adjusted my assets. "I want Anthony back in the business. If I let you walk, he walks too, and I can't have that.

She sighed and scrubbed her hands over her face. "Why do you want him back so badly?"

"To keep him safe."

Bailey frowned. "Can't he keep himself safe?"

"Not as safe as I'd like," I replied honestly.

"I bet he'd disagree with you," Bailey countered.

I smiled sadly. "You are probably right, but the longer he stays out of the game the more likely it is that someone's gonna get the drop on him."

"The longer he stays out of the game the less enemies he'll have, Manoso."

"Do you honestly believe that?" I challenged.

Bailey stared down at her boots and shook her head slightly. "No,maybe, I don't know. It seems we're at an impasse, doesn't it?"

"Pretty much," I agreed. Then a thought popped into my head; it seemed that I was going to have to sacrifice something. "New deal. You work for me for six months– based out of my Boston office. I'll get you out of the country at the end of your term and I'll forego my contract on you, but you do not see my brother ever again. As far as he will be concerned I will have turned you in so he will have to come back and work for me. Well?"

"My freedom in place of his?"

"Something like that, yeah."

"You're a bastard, Manoso, you know that?"

I smirked. "Yeah, but not a fucking bastard. But can you honestly tell me that what you have with him will last?"

Bailey looked at me defiantly. "Maybe it will."

"Shit girl, look at yourself; how many weapons do you normally carry?"

Her brows creased slightly like she was counting. "Seven," she whispered.

I nodded. "So what, you shack up with my brother and then vanish for months at a time to god knows where doing god knows what. You think he'll understand you fucking guys to gather intelligence?"

"I could go straight."

I looked at her sadly. "Put your hand on your heart and say that again."

Her hand twitched slightly, then she bit her lip and shook her head.

"I didn't think so, babe. People like us don't do relationships; haven't you worked that out by now?"

"Yeah, I know. Guess I just got caught up in the moment for a while. Thought that I could make it work…"

I actually felt sorry for her. "And maybe you would for a while, but we all know it turns to ratshit in the end."

Bailey nodded. "I guess. Heard you did the marriage and kids thing once."

"Once upon a time," I replied.

"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"It's pretty hard to be a husband and a father when you spend most of your time away from them with a rifle in your hands. It certainly wasn't planned, that's for sure."

"Bet you'll use a condom next time," Bailey commented cattily.

"If there is a next time," I groused bitterly as I cupped my balls. "You could have scarred me for life."

"Did I not? Guess I must be getting rusty," she grinned cheekily. "Anyway, back to business, what about the government, how are you going to deal with them?"

"Babe, we do what you should have done in the first place – erase your file, or better still shut it down and mark it as closed."

The look on Bailey's face was priceless. Her bag hit the deck with a thud and she slid down the wall until her ass hit the floor and put her head in her hands. "Shit!" she cursed as she knocked the back of her head against the plaster board wall a few times. "Why the hell did I not think of that?"

I shrugged. "Don't ask me how your mind works."

"Fuck!" Bailey shrieked. She was a woman on the edge who was stuck in a shitty situation that she could so easily have avoided.

I stepped closer and offered her my hand. "Come on babe, let's get something to eat before we head to the airport."

Bailey took a deep breath and then warily accepted my hand. "What's the plan then, _boss_?"

I hauled her to her feet and picked up her duffle from where she'd just dropped it. "We have a deal?"

"Yeah, I guess we do," Bailey said grudgingly as she handed me my guns back.

"Still head to Boston; I've got a secure apartment in the basement of that building."

She looked a little skeptical.

"Trust me; no one will even know you are there."

Bailey looked into my eyes. I'm not sure what she was looking for, but after a few seconds she nodded slightly. "Okay. So I get my freedom, you get your brother back, but Ranger, what does Anthony get out of this?"

I gazed back at her. "Anthony? He gets to stay alive, babe; I get to watch his back again."

"Who watches your back?"

"Tank, and for the next six months you get to be my eyes and ears too. Think you can handle that?"

"Piece of cake."

"Atta girl, Bailey."

"Ranger?"

"Yeah?"

"How did you find me? If you don't mind me asking, that is. I kinda like to know shit like this so I can never make the same mistake twice. I thought everything I was doing was untraceable."

I ushered her out of the apartment door, headed towards my truck and slung an arm around her shoulder. "Rule number eight of the Mercenary's handbook: Never leave your equipment lying around unattended; someone could tamper with it or plant bugs or tracking devices on it."

Bailey stopped dead, the color draining out of her face as she realized just what I'd done to her. "You, you, you fucking bastard!"

I blocked the punch she threw at my face and squeezed her wrist sharply. "All's fair in love and war, babe."


	7. Epilogue 1 One week later

**A/N: With thanks to Robin who planted the seed for this, gave me some great ideas and a few of the lines too. Thanks for everything, babe.**

**Better the Devil**

**Epilogue One – One Week Later - Ranger's POV**

I wiped my sweaty palms on my cargos and took a deep breath to calm the butterflies in my stomach; I felt like I was fifteen again and on my first date with Carmen Sanchez. Get a grip, Ranger, I chastised myself. Finally, I slid my spare key into Anthony's door. Would it still work, what if it didn't? Thankfully the lock clicked open and I let out a sigh of relief, then hesitantly pushed the door open, afraid of what I'd be met with on the other side.

My brother and I had not been on the best of terms of late. Shit, the last time I'd seen him was here in this apartment over six weeks ago when Bailey was shacked up with him; damn that felt like a life time ago.

I guess it was about time we sorted this shit out, and I informed him that I'd handed Bailey over to the government. I hadn't really; she was camped out in the sub-basement apartment in Boston, but part of the deal I made with her was for us to shut her government file down and make it look like she was in their hands so I could bring Anthony back into the mercenary business. She wasn't very happy with me or her situation right now, but so far she was holding up on her end of the bargain.

I glanced around the loft and found my brother seated at the breakfast bar nursing a coffee and reading a copy of the Wall Street Journal. He looked at me briefly over the top of his paper and then went back to reading.

It was now or never. "Hey," I said by way of a greeting, and crossed the room to join him at the bar.

Anthony set the paper down and looked at me with blank eyes; his emotions tightly under wraps, mental shields unyielding. "Well?" was all he said.

I placed the file containing the copy of the doctored government paperwork in front of him; he picked it up and skimmed the contents, before setting it back down and taking a sip of coffee.

"You okay?" I asked lamely. "So… now you're in?"

Anthony studied me intently, yet said nothing.

"We had a deal," I pressed.

He grabbed the file, walked over to the leather sectional, sprawled out on it, flicked the TV on to CNN and muted the volume. "Yeah, we had a deal, Ranger," he whispered.

I nodded. "Something's coming up in the next couple of weeks; got a heads up from the General this morning."

"Guess you won then," Anthony replied bitterly. "I'm back in the game as per your orders."

"It's good to have you back, man," I said honestly.

"Why?"

I sat down opposite him in the arm chair and rubbed my hands over my eyes; this was proving to be as hard as I'd expected it to be. No, scratch that, it was harder. "I care about you; you're my brother-"

"Was."

"Excuse me?"

Anthony leafed through the report again then tossed it on the coffee table. "I was your brother. Not any more, not since this deal. If you cared for me as much as you believe that you do, then you would never forced me back into this life."

"Just what are you saying, Anthony?"

"I'm back in the mercenary game, but the operative word here is _mercenary_. There are plenty of people who'd pay me to take you out, and with the way I'm feeling right know, shit I'd do it for free. So I'd watch your back if I were you, Ranger," Anthony growled before he turned away from me and focused his attention on the news.

Shit. "Anthony, look…" This was a cluster fuck and I was a man of few words. How could I make this right? "I just want you safe, man; I need you."

My brother looked back over at me, hatred simmering in his eyes. "You need me?" he sneered.

Was all this worth it, was this hatred worth it to keep him safe? Maybe it wasn't. "I guess I was wrong," I whispered.

Anthony snorted. "When have I ever let you down, man? No matter when or where, I come if you call. So why all this formal bullshit, huh?"

"Never let me down," I muttered. "I wouldn't be sat here if you hadn't let me down in Philadelphia. You damn well lied to me, Anthony. And you've still never told me why you did that to me."

He leapt up off the couch and began to pace across the far end of the room. Anger and frustration all but crackled in the air around him. "You think Bailey would have enjoyed working for the government? Do you think she'd tell them who she worked with and what they'd been doing for the last few years? Jesus fucking Christ, Ranger! This is our government, you know what they are capable of, so do you think they'd just leave her alone if she wouldn't spill her guts and 'fess up with the intel? I couldn't condemn her to that; the girl just wanted to go home.

"We're back to that morally right legally grey shit you harp on about all the time. If you can do it then so can I. Or maybe you'd rather that I'd left Lester and Bobby to rot four years ago, huh? That whole extraction was morally right and legally grey, but I didn't think twice when you called for help. Shit, Bailey was never a threat to national security. Hell, I still don't know what those damn spooks wanted with her anyway; the whole fucking job still stinks. Someone is fucking with us and you're too far up your own ass to see it."

I let out a deep breath and dragged my fingers through my hair. "I'm sorry, Anthony."

"Bullshit! And while we're on the subject, Ranger, you can tell me right now why you're lying to me."

My blank face fell into place. "I don't know what you mean."

Anthony stormed across the room, snatched Bailey's file from the coffee table and threw it at my feet. "You think I'm fucking stupid? Where the hell is she?"

"I don't know what you mean," I replied calmly.

"That file was hacked; you never turned her in, did you? Why do you want me to believe that you handed her in when I know you didn't. Did your morally right and legally grey ethics catch up with you again and you finally see some sense? Or is it just a flimsy ruse to get me back into the business?"

Shit. "I don't know what you mean," I said again.

"You want a fucking deal, Ranger? Tell me where you stashed her and I'll come back willingly, and maybe I won't kill you."

"What makes you think I know where she is?"

Anthony snorted. "You never do anything unless it suits your purpose; you wouldn't have just let her walk away. What did you do with her, what fucked up deal did you make with Bailey?"

"She's in Boston for the next six months; I told her not to come looking for you."

"You bastard," Anthony hissed as he stepped up to me and planted his hands on the chair arms. "What gave you the right to do that?"

"Because I'm your brother, because I care about you, damn it! Because I love you," I yelled back.

"Don't you want me to be happy?" he gritted out.

I shook my head sadly."You think she'll change? How are you gonna feel when you find out she's fucked her way across Europe gathering intel for whoever the hell it is she works for? Think you can handle that, Anthony?"

"I won't know until we give it a shot," he replied coolly and stepped back. "Now get the hell out of my apartment. You can call me with the job details."

"Sure," I answered quietly as he stalked across the loft and into his room, the door slamming behind him.

How could one woman have caused such a rift between us? I really hoped that Anthony would talk to me again civilly this side of the next millennium. Guess after everything, I'd gotten what I'd wanted. Maybe I should have been more careful of what I wished for.

Anthony was right about something though, Bailey's file was definitely _off_. I just wish I knew what all this was really about. Who was meddling in my life, in Anthony's life and why?


	8. Epilogue 2 six weeks later

**A/N: Both of the following characters belong to Robin; thanks for letting me borrow them, babe. I won't go into too much detail, other than to say the Ricado is both Ranger & Anthony's father, yet Robert is the man that brought Anthony up. Both men are ex CIA and suposedly dead.**

**Better the Devil**

**Epilogue Two – Six weeks later**

Ricardo Manoso Senior took another sip of his gin and tonic and smiled as he spotted the other man enter the beach front bar; he hadn't seen Robert Stewart in nearly three months.

Stewart wove his way across the crowded bar and took a seat at the table, then signaled the waitress. "Club soda with lime, and another G & T for my friend," he requested.

The two men sat in companionable silence until their drinks order had been filled and the young woman had hustled away to deal with other customers.

"So," Stewart said as he took a sip of his drink, "Your scheming pay off, Manoso?"

Manoso smiled. "Maybe, it certainly looks that way anyway, Robert."

He nodded. "Good, tell me again how you found this woman."

"Through a friend of a friend of a contact's mother's brother's pool cleaner; you know how it is, amigo."

Robert nodded. "Yeah, I catch your drift. So what happened over in the US?"

"Well," Manoso whispered conspiratorially, "Ranger took the bait and hauled Antony along for the ride just as I expected – what with all the staff shortages Ranger's having over at Rangeman Trenton right now. Anyway, very long story short, Bailey's working for Ranger out of Rangeman Boston; he set her up in the sub-basement and she's covering his ass by digging up intel and doing his dirty work."

"Good. What about Anthony?"

Manoso frowned. "Had a bit of a spat with his brother, but I hear they are talking again and he's back on the job."

"Excellent. This _spat_ have anything to do with the woman?"

"Sort of; Anthony has a crush on her and Ranger was all set on turning her in."

"Ah," Robert murmured. "So what changed his mind?"

Manoso smirked. "In the end Ranger recognized a good thing when he saw it; that Bailey was too valuable to turn in, hence the job in Boston."

Robert took a swig of his drink and drained the glass. "Any more news on those damn Nevis brothers or potential fallout from that Phoenix mission yet?"

"Not so I've heard; I'm keeping an eye on things. Don't worry; Bailey will watch out for the boys, I'm sure of it. And besides, if she misses anything I'll just get her handler in Ireland to pass intel onto her."

"I'll sleep easier at night knowing that there is someone out there to watch both Anthony and Ranger's backs, Ricardo. Do they suspect that this was a set up?"

"They know something is off, but other than that the three of them don't have a clue."

Robert smiled. "Good, and let's keep it that way. Mind you, I still don't know why you had to set about this with the cloak and dagger routine."

"You can't make Ranger or Anthony do anything without them being suspicious; this way they got to make their own choices and believe that they were in control. Besides, I'm supposed to be dead, so why on earth would they listen to me?"

"Good point. Fancy a round of golf?"


	9. Epilogue 3 Eighteen months later

**A/N: This is the final installment and I decided that it was about time I let Bailey have her say about all this. Enjoy. Thanks for reading and reviewing everyone.**

**Better the Devil **

**Epilogue Three – Eighteen months later**

My security system bleeped, signaling someone pressing the sub basement button that was located inside the hidden panel in the elevator, and I cast a glance at the clock in the corner of my computer screen. It was nearing six am; probably Bones coming off shift and popping in for a coffee and a gossip. I looked over at the security monitor at the far end of my desk to double check, and frowned; what on earth did Ranger want at six am?

I went back to checking over Rangeman's main sever for glitches; the fucking thing had gone down earlier, but thankfully the backup had picked up the slack and I didn't think we'd lost too much critical data. Server One would be ready to go back on line soon, and I started another systems check before getting up to make a fresh pot of coffee.

The security locks on my door beeped then flashed green, and a second later Ranger shoved the door open. He looked like shit; cut to his face, bloodied knuckles and what looked like a bullet graze to his left bicep. I hauled the first aid kit out from under the sink and Ranger collapsed on the couch.

His eyes were closed, his breathing ragged and uneven. And then I picked up on the marks on his black t-shirt; dried blood. Shit.

"Bad day?" I asked quietly as I popped the lid on the large green plastic box and pulled out a pair of latex gloves.

Ranger didn't respond, so I snapped the gloves on and picked up a pen light to inspect the wound on his arm. The graze definitely looked like it came from a bullet; there was nothing left to stitch, so the best I could do was clean it up and slap some gauze on it.

The cut on his cheek was short but deep and situated just in front of his left ear. I'd tape it for now, but he was going to have to go see a doctor if he didn't want it to scar. I bypassed the bloody t-shirt; there were no holes in it so I doubted it was hiding a serious injury, and then moved onto his right hand. Someone had a very hard head, or Ranger had been punching walls; hard to tell which was correct at this moment in time. I pulled an ice pack from the first aid box, activated it and placed it on his swelling hand. He jumped slightly from the cold, but didn't react any further. Yeah, definitely a bad day.

He was hard work when he got like this, but something had obviously gone wrong – most likely on a job. I suspected that he only came to me because no one else would deal with him; especially after he tore a strip of Bobby, the Rangeman Trenton medic last summer. I'd concluded that he let me patch him up because I was the only person he could think of that he wouldn't hit. Ranger Manoso didn't frighten me, not any more anyway.

Don't get me wrong, eighteen months ago I was scared to death of him, scared that he was going to turn my ass over to the government. Thankfully he didn't, and offered me a deal instead - six months of my time in exchange for a new set of I.D so I could get out of the country and return to Winter, Danny and the boys.

Funny thing was that after the initial six months was up, I didn't want to leave Boston. In fact, I was the happiest I'd ever been; even if my relationship with Ranger's brother, Anthony had fallen apart. Ranger had said to me in Phoenix that I wasn't relationship material, but I'd been willing to give it a shot with Anthony Stewart. Well, I had achieved something during my eight months with him; I'd proved without a doubt that I was not suited to a long term relationship, even with another mercenary.

Being a chick in this industry was hard on so many different levels. The guys all thought you were weaker than them, until you had proved them otherwise. And sometimes, when they wanted to get you into bed, they were surprised to find out that nine out of ten times you either weren't interested, or that after a few months of dating you wouldn't settle down and do the kids and marriage thang. Idiots, the lot of them.

So why was I still here in Boston? I liked it, it was secure, and I got to work on my own terms. I loved my brother, Danny, but he drove me nuts, and there was only so many times I was willing to fuck some guy to get intel for Winter so he could pull the trigger or whatever. Yeah, you never saw Winter fucking the guys and then letting me kill the scum. No, I was happy here, despite my taciturn boss. Bones and Snake from the office upstairs where cool, and sometimes Anthony would call in and we'd take off in his beat up old Jeep and spend the weekend surfing; we worked better as friends.

I patched Ranger up, covered his wounds with waterproof dressings and then hauled him off the couch. He stank of sweat, blood and a myriad of other unpleasant things, and really needed a shower.

I tugged him over to the bathroom; he followed silently, his dark eyes brimming with anger and pain. Some bad shit had gone down tonight. I considered calling Anthony to get the low down, but didn't really want to leave Ranger alone right now.

His black t-shirt wasn't worth saving, so I cut a slit at the bottom with my boot knife and ripped it right up the middle and then peeled it slowly off his torso; the blood had dried, sticking the fabric to his skin. A couple of dark bruises blossomed across his ribs; he was going to be sore tomorrow, that was for sure. I turned the shower on to warm up and then reached out to pop the button on his cargos, but he gently pushed my hands away and finished stripping himself. There was a nasty bruise on his thigh and a small cut on his calf that I'd missed, but it didn't seem to be bleeding anymore.

With a deep sigh, Ranger stepped into the shower. I divested myself of my clothes and arsenal and joined him. He said nothing while I washed his hair and scrubbed him clean.

He still hadn't said a word by the time I'd dried him off and gently pushed him into my bed. The Rangeman computer servers needed my attention, but fixing the Rangeman CEO was more vital to the company right now. I shut the lights down, slid in to bed and pulled Ranger close. He rolled onto his back, taking me with him, tucked me in the crook of his arm and tangled his fingers in my hair; he was out like a light.

* * *

The warm body I was curled around moved and jarred me out of my light sleep; guess Ranger was finally awake after nearly ten hours. I turned my reading light on and looked up at him. "You okay?"

He shrugged slightly.

"You want to talk about it, Ric?"

"Not really," he whispered.

"Fair enough." I knew better than to push him; he'd open up eventually. "Coffee, tea, pain killers?"

He rubbed his hands over his face and glanced at my old wind up alarm clock. "Ten or twenty two hours?"

"Just ten hours, though you still look like hell; go back to sleep if you want."

"No, I'm fine, babe. Coffee would be great."

I nodded and slid out from under the warm covers and went to fix us both a brew. While the machine did its job I went and checked on the computer hardware I'd abandoned earlier. Everything looked fine; I'd pull the logs later and go through them with a fine tooth comb when I wasn't dealing with Ranger. The system reconnected smoothly and by the time the coffee had finished, the server was back up and running. I dashed off a quick companywide email telling everyone to check their files and then to the individual tech guys to check their own internal servers for any problems. Job done I filled a couple of mugs, left one black and climbed back into bed.

Ranger accepted his coffee and then tucked a curl behind my ear. "Why are you still here?"

I frowned. "What do you mean, Ric? I live here."

"You could have left a year ago, but you didn't, Bailey."

"Trying to get rid of me?" I asked with a smile.

"No, I just wonder sometimes," he responded as he picked at some loose threads on the black and red quilt that covered my bed. "Why do you keep this thing? It's so old and full of holes; you could buy a new one."

I set my mug down and smoothed a hand over the old quilt. "My mother made it for me a long time ago. It reminds me of better things, of the good times and it makes me feel safe."

He nodded. "I can understand that."

"You can borrow it any time you need, you know."

"Thank you."

"You want to talk about it yet?" I asked gently.

"No, not really."

"Fair enough. You hungry?"

He shook his head.

"Can I get you anything?"

"I've got all I need right here," he whispered as he pulled me close and rested his chin on top of my head.

Time slipped by and I held Ric close as his tears soaked into my hair. I didn't say anything and I didn't judge. I doubted it would be the last time I would do this for him, but I didn't mind.

At some point I pulled the quilt over us both and hoped that Ranger would start to think of better things, that everything would work out and the pain in his soul would ease. It was clear to me that someone had died today, and no matter what had really happened, Ranger would blame himself. I was honored that he allowed me to see this side of him, someone had to help him keep the demons at bay and I'd had a lot of experience of that in my own life.

Later, once the tears had stopped he pulled me on top of him and kissed me gently.

I smiled against his lips and he kissed me again; one hand pressed to the back of my head and the other cupped my butt.

After a while he pulled away. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For that, I didn't…"

I placed a finger on his lips. "Shush. There is no price for what we give each other. Ever. I'm here for you, no matter what you need, okay?"

"Thank you."

"No worries, Ric."

"I just…"

"I know, I understand, I've been there too."

"Things will get better, Bailey; tomorrow's another day."

"Exactly."

"I'm not keeping you from your work am I?"

"Nothing that can't wait; besides I'm sure the boss won't mind."

Ranger smiled for the first time since he'd walked through my door hours earlier. "I'll talk to him for you, I'm sure he'll understand."

I nodded. "Good. You think this counts as overtime?"

Ranger growled.

"Hang on, do you actually pay me?"

"Bailey, shut up," he whispered as he kissed me again.

Yeah, Ranger was going to be alright; he'd be back to saving the world in no time.


End file.
